


Heal My Soul (cuz i'm one in a million)

by worrisomeme



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alcohol Withdrawal, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Drug Withdrawal, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Joseph Kavinsky Being an Asshole, Joseph Kavinsky Lives, Joseph Kavinsky is His Own Warning, Kavinsky is really vulgar okay?, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Recovery, Soft Joseph Kavinsky, Soft Ronan Lynch, Withdrawal, all kinds of foul language, eventually, f-slur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24919270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worrisomeme/pseuds/worrisomeme
Summary: Kavinsky is slumped against the doorframe, and he’s always looked like a dumpster fire, but that’s nothing compared to how he looks right now. Where he was thin before, he’s skin and bones now. His nose is red, his eyes are bloodshot and sunken, the bags under them look like he hasn’t slept in weeks, his normally-styled hair flopping in his face. Across his wrists are two deep cuts, not bleeding but definitely not stitched, and not even old enough to be properly scabbed. He looks strung out and starving and under it all so fucking miserable it makes Ronan want to cry, but he’s still got that shit-eating grin stretched across his hollow face.
Relationships: Joseph Kavinsky/Ronan Lynch, Noah Czerny/Richard Gansey III/Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish/Blue Sargent/Henry Cheng
Kudos: 34





	Heal My Soul (cuz i'm one in a million)

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit! This is my first published fic in almost an entire year and my first ever published fic for The Raven Cycle fandom! Based on [this post](https://if-you-cannot-be-unafraid.tumblr.com/post/171412507479/au-where-kavinsky-doesnt-die) by if-you-cannot-be-unafraid on tumblr! I really hope you guys like it!
> 
> Title is from One In A Million by Dance Gavin Dance<3

Ronan is already missing Adam (and Gansey and Blue and even Henry) like crazy. It’s like they weren’t even home for almost 3 weeks for winter break, like they don’t come home every weekend anyway. He’s sprawled across the couch with a cup of coffee watching Noah play Overwatch on the PlayStation, his legs in the dead boy’s lap as he shit-talks.

“Aim like you’re alive Czerny, come on,” he says, grinning, and takes a long sip from his cup.

“Fuck off, Lynch,” Noah says with a laugh. He has half a mind to shove Ronan’s feet from his lap just for the sake of being a brat but doesn’t want to lose the contact.

“Right now?” Ronan asks playfully and shoves his hand down his sweatpants. “I mean, okay, if you want.”

Noah glances over, his eyes darting between the devilish grin on his boyfriend’s face and the slow movement of his hand beneath the fabric. He swallows hard, licks his lips, and forces himself to look back at the screen. “I can turn the game off right now if that’s where this is going,” he says.

Ronan laughs loudly and rolls his eyes, pulling his hand from his pants and taking another sip of his coffee. “As if you’d quit in the middle of a round,” he teases.

Noah opens his mouth to argue or defend himself, but he’s cut off by a pounding on the door. Both boys jump and look at each other, eyes wide and questioning. When the pounding starts again Ronan sets his mug down and gets up, setting his face into a scowl as he makes his way to the door.

“Can I hel-?” he starts to ask rudely, but the second he catches sight of who’s on their doorstep he stops short.

Kavinsky is slumped against the doorframe, and he’s always looked like a dumpster fire, but that’s nothing compared to how he looks right now. Where he was thin before, he’s skin and bones now. His nose is red, his eyes are bloodshot and sunken, the bags under them look like he hasn’t slept in weeks, his normally-styled hair flopping in his face. Across his wrists are two deep cuts, not bleeding but definitely not stitched, and not even old enough to be properly scabbed. He looks strung out and starving and under it all so fucking miserable it makes Ronan want to cry, but he’s still got that shit-eating grin stretched across his hollow face.

“Jesus Christ, K,” Ronan mutters, opening the door wider.

“Long time no see, faggot,” Joseph says and his words slur together. Ronan can’t help but notice recent scars all along his arms, exposed despite the winter chill outside.

“Do you need something, or did you just get fucked up and decide you were going to come be a dick again six months later?” Ronan asks with a roll of his eyes, hiding behind his hostility. “Cuz you could have just called for all that. I’m surprised you didn’t crash your fucking car.”

Behind him Noah’s turned the game off and disappeared to give them some privacy. Probably also to not have to deal with Kavinsky.

“You gonna let me in or what?” K asks, moving forward into Ronan’s space, a hand on his chest.

“Depends on why you’re here,” Ronan asks, ignoring the beginnings of an ache beneath his ribs at the touch.

“I need your help,” Joseph says, his fake smile falling just slightly. “ _Razbiraš li'_?” _Got it?_

“You know I don’t speak Bulgarian,” he says with another roll of his eyes. He knows he should push the other man off him, but he just can’t make himself. “And I tried to help you once, remember? You bolted,” he says, holding up three fingers, “day three.”

“It’s different this time, Ro.” His smile falls completely and his eyes are desperate and Ronan doesn’t want to, but he believes him. Still, he’s afraid. He won’t let his guard down so easy this time.

“What’s so different, then?” Ronan asks with a soft huff of a sigh. “Convince me and I’ll consider it.”

Kavinsky holds out one arm so the other man can get a better glimpse of it, of the scars and the fresh wound. “I almost died this time,” he says. His voice cracks as the last of his mask slips and shatters. “I don’t want to die, Ronan. I was laying there, bleeding out, overdosed, the world going black and fuzzy around the edges. Everyone was fucked up and laughing in the other room and I realized, I don’t want to fucking die. I want to get better. I want to _be_ better.”

Ronan scrubs a hand over his face and sighs again. Kavinsky must mistake that for disbelief, because he grabs Ronan’s wrists and grips them tight, ducking his head so their eyes meet.

“Please,” he begs. “I don’t care what it takes. Lock me up, tie me up, I don’t care. I’ll put it in writing, you can record me begging and play it back when I try to run. Please, I don’t care what you have to do. Help me clean up. You’re all I’ve got, Ro.”

And that’s it, the final nail in Ronan’s coffin. His heart is breaking in his chest and he uses Joseph’s grip on his wrists to tug him backwards into the living room. “If I’m doing this, there are going to be conditions,” he says and tugs a hand free to close the door.

Joseph looks like he could cry as he drops to his knees, Ronan’s other wrist slipping from his grip. He curses in English and Bulgarian under his breath and nods. “Thank you,” he mutters between profanities.

Ronan gets Kavinsky fed, showered, and changed before sending him to his room to sleep off what he can of whatever’s strongest in his system. He sits in his desk chair next to the bed and just watches the other man until he’s actually asleep. Then he sighs and pulls out his phone, sending a message to the group chat him and his partners share.

[ **Ronan:** so... no one’s hurt or anything, but some shit happened]

[ **Henry:** can noah even get hurt?]

[ **Blue:** ronan threw him out the window once and he was fine]

[ **Adam:** What happened?]

[ **Ronan:** kavinsky]

[ **Gansey:** What did he do now?]

[ **Ronan:** he wants my help again. i think he really means it this time]

[ **Adam:** You’ve been down this road before Ronan...]

[ **Ronan:** you think i don’t know that? you should have seen him this time though]

[ **Ronan:** he tried to kill himself]

[ **Henry:** fuck...]

[ **Gansey:** Did you even attempt to think this through?]

[ **Ronan:** i set better rules this time. i'm not leaving him alone unless he’s tied up. at least until the withdrawals are over, among other things]

[ **Adam:** …........I'm not happy about it but I'll help when I'm home]

[ **Blue:** if you’re really serious about this lynch, then same]

[ **Henry:** i'm in]

[ **Noah:** he did seem sincere... you should have seen him]

[ **Gansey:** I guess I’m overruled then. I’ll do what I can. I just hope he doesn’t let you down again.]

Kavinsky wakes with a start, sweating and shaking violently. “Hey _pedal_!” _faggot,_ he shouts at Ronan, asleep in his desk chair next to the bed. “Wake up you fucking cock hungry cum slut faggot piece of shit!”

Ronan jumps awake and the second he registers the words that are coming out of the other man’s mouth he kicks the side of the mattress roughly. “Shut the fuck up,” he spits back. “What the fuck do you want?”

“I’m gonna puke all over your fucking bed if you don’t let me up,” Kavinsky’s words drip venom even though he looks like he could shake apart at any second. Ronan groans and bolts from his chair, quickly releasing Joseph’s wrists from the headboard as the other man keeps running his mouth. “I didn’t peg you as being into that, so I thought I’d be fucking generous and warn you. But I guess I shouldn’t assume, right? After all, these are some nice fucking sex cuffs you just happened to have stashed in your panty drawer. All padded and shit. Absolutely fucking lovely.”

“God do you ever shut the fuck up?” Ronan asks, stepping back as soon as Kavinsky is loose. “You’re making me regret this decision to help you.” The other man jumps from the bed as quickly as he can and runs to the bathroom. (Now minus the fridge. The first thing Blue had done when she moved into Monmouth had been to make them set up a proper distinction between kitchen and bathroom, despite Ronan’s protests that a shower beer was the best kind of beer. “Then just bring it in from the kitchen,” she’d said, along with a muttered, “fucking nasty.”)

Noah appears in front of Ronan as he leans against the wall next to the bathroom door, listening to Kavinsky retch his guts out as he texts Prokopenko a list of K’s shit to bring over.

“Alcohol withdrawals can kill you,” Noah says, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Ronan can’t decide if he sounds worried or amused. “If he dies, you think he would learn to manifest like me?”

“He’ll be fine,” Ronan muses, finishing his text before looking up to his dead boyfriend. “The rest of the shit in his system will balance it out.”

“Did WebMD tell you that?” Noah teases, bumping their toes together.

“Do you think I should try and dream him something?” Ronan asks, worrying his lip between his teeth and glancing up from where he’s ordering fast food breakfast for delivery. “To help?”

“Maybe if it gets bad enough,” Noah says with a shrug. He presses onto his toes to kiss the corner of Ronan’s mouth. “You’re a good person Ronan Lynch.”

Ronan smirks and catches him by the back of the neck before he can pull back completely, gently tugging him forward for a proper kiss. “Don’t say that too loud, okay? You’ll ruin my reputation.”

-

Kavinsky’s even worse by the time the group comes home that weekend. He’s got a fever but he’s always cold, his entire body is trembling, he barely eats and when he does he can barely keep it down, and his mood swings are wild and unpredictable, bouncing between suicidal, paranoid, and furious. He barely leaves the bed, in the throes of the worst of the symptoms. The one time Ronan left Noah alone with him Kavinsky had thrown something at him and Noah had flickered to avoid being hit. Thankfully Kavinsky just thought he was hallucinating because of the withdrawals, but... well, Ronan doesn’t leave Noah alone with him anymore.

Adam, usually home on Thursday thanks to strategic class scheduling, waits until Friday to make the trip back with everyone else this time. Ronan doesn’t blame him.

Blue is the first one to come into his room when they get home. She gives Ronan a half hug with her arm around his shoulder and her cheek against the top of his head. “You look like shit,” she says, and he’s not sure if she’s talking to him or Kavinsky. Probably both, he thinks.

“Thanks,” he says with a scoff and flips her his middle finger.

“I’ve got this if you want a real break. Adam’s somewhere between worried sick and annoyed,” she warns him.

Ronan stretches as he stands, his eyes trailing over Kavinsky’s shaking form. He’s at least pretending to pay attention to the movie playing on Ronan’s laptop at the foot of the bed. “Be fucking nice,” he warns the other man, then turns to his girlfriend. “Shout if he tries to pull some shit,” he says, then leans down and, in a fairly rare moment of intimacy between just them, catches her lips in a kiss. “I appreciate you, maggot,” he says and kisses her again.

She smiles against his lips and flicks the lobe of his ear. “What would you do without me?” she asks and shoves him away playfully.

Ronan laughs and flips her off again as he slips out of the room and closes the door behind himself.

“Jesus Ronan,” Adam breathes the second he steps into the living room. His pacing stops instantly in favor of closing the distance between them, his arms twining around his waist. “You look like shit.”

“Wow, gee, thanks. You too? Anyone else wanna insult me?” he asks, smirking despite the roll of his eyes. He wraps his arms around Adam’s shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “Blue, Adam, anyone else wanna not get fucked by me this weekend?” He leans into Adam’s right ear and whispers, “Missed you.”

Gansey sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose under his wire-frame glasses, his jaw and shoulders tight. “I already know the answer to this but, did that black eye come from Kavinsky?” he asks.

An unfortunate result of one of Kavinsky’s mood swings.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Ronan says with a shrug, finally releasing Adam and dropping onto the couch.

“When is the last time you ate? Or slept for more than an hour?” Henry asks, eyeing the collection of fast food bags, take-out containers, and pizza boxes piling up in and around the garbage can.

“He ate this morning,” Noah answers for Ronan, appearing perched on the arm on the other side of the couch. “The sleep has been more unpredictable. He won’t let me watch him since-”

“I’ll throw you out the fucking window again,” Ronan threatens, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“I’ll go to the store with Jane later,” Gansey says at the look on Henry’s face. “We can take shifts with Kavinsky while we’re here so we can _all_ get some proper sleep.”

Gansey takes the midnight shift. With his insomnia he’s always up anyway, and maybe babysitting Kavinsky will exhaust him enough to sleep for more than a few hours. He doubts it, but maybe.

“Dick!” Joseph shouts, a big fake grin on his face as Gansey takes Henry’s place in the desk chair. “Love the glasses. They really complete your rich white Boomer look. Quite the little _harem_ you’ve got here, _Dick_. Impressive.”

“That’s none of your business, Joseph,” Gansey snaps, pulling out his phone. “And don’t call them that. They’re not mine and we’re not a harem. It’s called polyamory. ” He’d planned to ignore Kavinsky and get some reading done, but he’d forgotten how much the other man could get under his skin.

“An orgy’s an orgy no matter what lacy word you put on it,” Kavinsky says and winks at him.

“Look,” Gansey says, looking up from his phone, “let’s get one thing straight. Just get it all out in the open so we both know where we stand. I’ve never liked you. I don’t use the word often but, honestly, I’d say I hate you.” Kavinsky grins from ear to ear, all teeth, and sits up at that, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and resting his chin in his hands. It must take all of his effort, but K’s always been one for melodrama. “You’re a bad influence on my boyfriend and I’ve always tried to get him to stay away from you. I don’t understand why he keeps coming back to you, or why it was so important to him to help you. If it were up to me we’d have dropped you off at a rehab facility and let you figure it out with your rabid pack of dogs. But, since it is important to Ronan, I’m here. For better or worse. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to be nice to you. It means I’m going to keep you from dying from alcohol withdrawals or leaving and trying to kill yourself again. So if you could just do us both a favor and shut up, it would be greatly appreciated.”

“Those sure were some pretty fucking vows, Princess,” Kavinsky says, his head tipped to the side. “Can I kiss the groom now that you’re done monologuing? Jesus, Dick.” He laughs and leans back on his elbows, sweating with the effort it’s taking to maintain his composure through his symptoms. “But you just made one fatal error sweetheart.”

Gansey rolls his eyes and heaves a sigh. He can be dramatic too. “And what’s that?”

“You just let me know how much I bother you,” K says, smirking. “You think I’m gonna stop talking when you just gave me power like that?” He laughs, genuine and malicious, showing off teeth again. “You are in for the ride of your life, Dick.”

Adam takes the first shift in the morning, right about the time Gansey usually manages to actually nod off for a little while. The latter can’t get out of the room fast enough, thanking Adam sharply for taking over before bolting out the door.

“Was wondering when you’d make an appearance, trailer trash,” Kavinsky says with a smirk.

“Oh you’re so innovative,” Adam says, monotone, as he sets his coffee on the nightstand, spreads his biology book across his lap, and uncaps his highlighter. “Did you come up with that insult on your own? So creative.”

“I’d ask you what’s up your ass but it’s probably Lynch’s cock most nights, huh? Dick’s on weeknights, right? Oh, you ever take both at once? Just split you right in half, I bet. You wanna bounce on my cock, trailer trash? Slut like you, bet you’d love it,” Kavinsky rambles and bucks his hips a few times, trying to get a rise from him.

“Go to sleep, Kavinsky,” Adam replies coolly, though his cheeks do pink up slightly.

“That wouldn’t explain now, though, huh?” Joseph goes on, determined. “You fuckers are kinky, right? Bet they put a plug in you, a nice big thick one, once Dick and Ro and Cheng and that other kid all fill your gaping slut asshole with their cum. Am I right? Fuck, I’m actually getting a little hard just thinking about it.” He grabs his crotch and lets out a moan that dissolves into manic giggles.

Adam pointedly does _not_ look up to find out if he’s lying or not. He does his best to ignore the other man and focus on his homework. He’s taken worse verbal abuse from his own mother, he sure as hell isn’t going to let Kavinsky get a reaction from him. It takes another 40 minutes, but eventually Joseph gets some combination of bored and tired and he finally shuts up. He’s asleep in less than another five.

On the other side of the door the house slowly starts to wake up. It’s just about time for Ronan to take another shift when Kavinsky starts whimpering in his sleep. Adam can _almost_ ignore the pained sounds, but then the other man starts thrashing and the whimpers turn into soft sobbing and pleas. “Stop! Stop, please! Please, dad! No! Stop! Dad, please!”

Adam’s racing heart leaps into his throat while his stomach sinks to the floor. The room spins around him for a fraction of a moment that feels so much longer. Almost without thinking Adam’s on his feet, the book sliding from his lap. He sits on Kavinsky’s waist to hold him down and grabs his wrists, tight enough to restrain him and ground him, but he’s careful to not be tight enough to hurt or rip open the scabs forming there.

“Kavinsky!” he shouts, leaning over him and pinning his wrists to the bed next to his head. “K! Wake up!”

Joseph wakes up, eyes wide and streaming tears, and immediately tries to throw Adam off him, still not entirely back to reality just yet. He’s still too weak from the abuse he’s put his body through and the withdrawals to actually throw Adam off, but he tries again, panting.

“Kavinsky, breathe, it’s Adam,” he says firmly but not unkindly, still gripping his wrists but moving them to rest against Kavinsky’s chest. He leans forward and presses their foreheads together, another attempt to ground him. “It’s alright K, just breathe.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Joseph mutters, then lets out a steady stream of Bulgarian. Tears stain his cheeks but Adam pretends not to have noticed them.

“You with me, K?” Adam asks, squeezing his wrists just slightly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kavinsky says, his breathing still heavy, pulse still racing under Adam’s fingertips. “I’m here.”

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” Adam says quietly, shutting his eyes against his own violent memories. It’s probably all in his head, but he swears his left ear starts ringing.

“No fucking shit,” Joseph scoffs, trying to throw Adam off him again and successfully ruining the moment. “I fucking killed the son of a bitch.”

Adam waits outside the door for Ronan that afternoon when Blue goes in to switch shifts with him again.

“Hey you,” Ronan says quietly and cups his face, pulling him in for a slow kiss. Adam lets him, but he’s frowning when Ronan pulls back.

“Can we talk?” he asks, his hands resting on Ronan’s waist as he leans in to press a kiss to his right wrist, just above the knotted leather bands there.

“’Course,” Ronan says and nods his head across the hall to Noah’s room.

They slip into the room and Ronan leans back against the closed door. “What’d he do?” he asks, fidgeting with the bands around his wrist.

“Did you know he’d been abused by his dad?” Adam asks, and suddenly the exact flavor of ‘visibly shaken’ he is is obvious to Ronan. “I don’t know if it was physical or sexual, but...” he trails off, shaking his head. He doesn’t want to think about it.

“Not for sure,” he tells his boyfriend. “What did he say?”

“He had a nightmare where he was begging his dad to stop, and when he woke up he said he killed him,” Adam says and shudders.

Ronan’s heart breaks in his chest for the millionth time this week and he squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m sorry you had to be there for that,” he says when he finally opens them.

Adam shakes his head and moves into Ronan’s space, leaning up to kiss him softly. “It just made me realize you made the right call helping him, that’s all,” he says, lacing his fingers with his boyfriend’s.

-

It’s just under two weeks into his withdrawals and the whole gang is back for the weekend, taking shifts watching Kavinsky again. He’s pretending to sleep while the insomniac, Dick III with his midnight shift, pretends to do homework at the makeshift desk he and Parrish have been using – Ronan's cleared-off nightstand with the desk chair rolled up to it. Kavinsky can smell the fucking mint leaf between Gansey’s lips from his spot on the bed.

The puking, fever, and chills have all finally fucking stopped for Joseph, he’s even started spending time in the living room, still snapping at everyone occasionally but becoming more docile. He’s doing better, overall, but he’s still got tremors wracking his body and he’s constantly bouncing between a restless anxiety and lethargic depression. Currently, the depression has a hold of him. Hence the pretending to sleep. He just doesn’t have it in him to antagonize the other man, as much fun as it can be. And honestly, it’s really losing its fun, the more sober he gets, the more his mood stabilizes.

The door opens and Joseph doesn’t have the energy to crack an eye open and see who it is. He knows Dick hasn’t been here long enough for it to be a shift change already.

“Hey Gans,” Ronan whispers, “can I talk to you out here for just a sec?”

Dick had spun around when the door had opened, but Kavinsky hears the chair creak again and feels eyes on him briefly.

“He’s sleeping, he’ll be fine,” Ronan says and K hears the door open wider. He hears Gansey get up and footsteps pad into the hallway, then he hears the door close against the frame, almost but not quite all the way.

Joseph finally opens his eyes and leans up on an elbow, looking around the room. This is the first time he’s been alone and uncuffed at the same time since he knocked on Ronan’s door two weeks ago. Out in the hall he can hear Ronan and Gansey talking in hushed, tense voices. It sounds like an argument, but he can’t make out what either of them are saying.

The argument goes on for a few minutes before suddenly Ronan raises his voice and shouts, “Gansey, Noah’s fucking dead! He’s dead! I know it’s easy to forget sometimes but he’s dead!”

Kavinsky’s head whips over to the door, eyes wide, and that’s when the blond boy suddenly appears in the desk chair next to the bed. Joseph jumps, his heart racing, and tries to muffle his, “Fuck!” His mind is racing too. Has the other boy been so fucking pale this whole time? What do they mean he’s _dead_? He and Ronan pull things out of their dreams, so it’s not entirely impossible. It would make sense that other magical or supernatural or _whatever_ shit would exist too. Right? But then, what the fuck is he? Some kind of reanimated corpse? A ghost? No way, K’s seen everyone touch him, seen him grab shit. Though, now that he thinks about it, has he ever seen him eat? Still, with that disappearing trick he’s gotta be a ghost or something.

“The jig is up,” Noah says with an expression on his face Joseph can’t read, then he vanishes from the chair. A second later, his voice can be heard in the hallway Kavinsky’s just realized went silent when he shouted.

Not a minute after that Ronan’s head peeks into the room, wide-eyed and nervous looking. Noah reappears in the chair and Joseph jumps again, clutching his hand to his chest as his heart skips a beat. “Guess it wasn’t a fucking hallucination,” he mutters, looking to Noah. Then, as Ronan steps into the room, Dick behind him, he asks, “What the fuck is going on?”

“Good job, Ronan,” Gansey says with a roll of his eyes.

“Fuck… Can we do this tomorrow?” Ronan asks, dragging his hand down his face.

The next morning Kavinsky refuses to beat around the bush. Cheng is at the stove cooking breakfast (quite a fucking feat for seven people, K thinks, impressed) with everyone else in various states of awake, draped across the couch and Gansey’s bed. Kavinsky gets a cup of coffee and hops up on the island that serves as the only real counter space or separation between the hodgepodge, thrown-together kitchen and the living space.

“So are we gonna fuckin’ talk about your dead boyfriend, or what?” he asks the room.

Blue and Adam’s heads whip around to stare at him, Henry freezes at the stove, and Ronan and Dick simultaneously hang their head in their hands and groan.

“Which one?” Noah asks, a mischievous grin on his face as he appears next to Kavinsky on the counter.

Joseph jumps, still not used to the whole ‘ghost’ thing, and curses under his breath in Bulgarian. “There’s more than one?” he asks, incredulous, when he’s done. “Who the fuck _else_ is dead?”

“Are we really doing this?” Gansey asks, face still buried in his hands. “Are we really telling him _everything_?”

“Yeah, are we telling him _everything_?” Adam asks, eyebrows raised as he stares at the top of Ronan’s head. “When did _this_ decision happen?”

“That was about to be my fucking question,” Blue chimes in. Her eyes are boring into Dick III’s soul rather than Ronan’s, since they both look about equally as guilty.

“Me and Ronan had a disagreement last night and when he lost his temper he might have shouted something about it,” Gansey says, finally raising his head.

“To be fair, he’s a dreamer too. He knows weird shit goes on in this world,” Ronan tries to defend himself, only lifting his head to take a sip of his coffee.

“I still wanna know who else is dead,” Kavinsky says with a shit-eating grin.

“We might as well just tell him everything,” Henry says, leaning against the other side of the island.

So they do. They start all the way at the beginning, with Noah dying on the ley line and Gansey dying and living, and tell him _everything_. Cabeswater, Adam’s abilities and connection to the forest, the legitimacy of Blue’s psychic family and her own abilities, Glendower and Gwenllian, Gansey dying and living again, the new Cabeswater.

Kavinsky absorbs it all and doesn’t even interrupt, his mouth open and his coffee barely touched. Somewhere along the line their breakfast is done and they eat slowly as they all take turns telling the story. When they’re done Joseph looks at Ronan and a grin spreads across his face.

“Is it cold, then, when the dead boy cums in your ass?”

-

The more sober Kavinsky gets the more the group warms to him, and the more they grow on him in turn. It’s not easy, fitting him into their group, but they’re slowly but surely starting to get the hang of it. Joseph doesn’t even run, this time, when he finds his feelings for Ronan only getting stronger than they’d ever been. He thinks he might be lucky enough to have earned himself a second chance when the other dreamer starts closing the distance between them.

It starts with Ronan sitting with their legs pressed together while the group watches a movie. When Kavinsky’s a month sober, Ronan starts sitting just as close even when they’re alone. Then suddenly they’re leaning on each other, or with an arm around the other’s shoulder. It’s natural. More natural than it had been before, when they’d both been fucked up every second they spent together.

Joseph’s celebrating two months sober the next day and Monmouth has become home to him, the group somehow have become family. He and Ronan are alone. It’s late and they’re lying in Ronan’s bed, some stupid show on his laptop at the foot of it. Kavinsky’s tremors haven’t stopped and Ronan’s holding his hands mindlessly, to steady him. Sometimes when the withdrawals were bad Parrish would grip his wrists like he did after that nightmare. He still does it sometimes, when Kavinsky’s in the throes of a panic attack, and Ronan’s grip on his hands reminds him of it.

He thinks of the open relationship the whole household is in and thinks he should probably just take a chance, right? What’s he got to lose?

 _Everything_ , he doesn’t let himself think.

He climbs onto Ronan’s lap, straddling his hips, and before the other dreamer can realize what’s about to happen Kavinsky’s kissing him.

K’s got more weight on him now that he’s not starving himself or killing himself with drugs, but Ronan still pushes him back like it’s nothing. He lands on his ass between Ronan’s knees, his brow furrowed.

“What the fuck was that?” Ronan asks, staring at him like he’s grown a second head.

“It was a kiss, asshole!” Kavinsky replies, defensive. “What the fuck was _that?”_

“You can’t just kiss me like that, K!” Ronan says, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

“Why the fuck not?” Joseph asks, crossing his arms over his chest. The blush blooming on his cheeks kind of defeats the pissed off, unaffected mask he’s trying to put on. “It’s not like you and Dick are exclusive. The whole damn rest of the house gets some.”

“That’s an agreement _we_ all have! It doesn’t mean we go around fucking every queer 20-something in town!”

Kavinsky’s blush deepens and he can’t stand to look at him anymore. “I’m not just any fucking queer in town,” he says, tugging nervously at the gold chain around his neck. “Fuck, it wasn’t even the first time we kissed. You mean to tell me all that shit every other time meant absolutely fuckall?”

“Of course not!” Ronan says and sighs, running a hand over his buzzed hair. “Jesus, K. We could have been something-“ he cuts himself off abruptly. Could have been something what? Special? Beautiful? Horrible? Like a train wreck, he thinks. He shakes his head. “But you fucking ran away when shit got hard. I’ve _got_ love in my life now. I don’t need to let you hurt me like that again.”

Joseph’s gaze snaps to meet Ronan’s. He hesitates for a second, just staring into his eyes, then climbs into his lap again. He takes Ronan’s hands, only to have the other dreamer quickly wrench them free. “I’m not gonna run away this time,” he says, and it’s the absolutely more sincere and genuine and raw he’s been since he begged Ronan for help two months ago.

“How can I trust you again?” Ronan asks, his heartbreak in his eyes despite the walls he’s desperately trying to keep up.

Joseph grips Ronan’s chin lightly and leans forward, pressing a feather-light kiss to his lips. Ronan doesn’t push him away this time.

“I’m not gonna run away this time,” he repeats.

Ronan shakes his head, sighs heavily, and then tips his head back against the headboard. “If there’s even a chance I can let you into that aspect of my life, I have to start trusting you first. I can’t be worried that every time I nod off you’re gonna bolt. I have to know you won’t hurt me like that again.”

Kavinsky slips his hand around to grip the back of Ronan’s head, tilting it forward as he leans up. He presses their lips together more firmly this time, pouring into this kiss every feeling he’s ever tried to bury about the other man, all the fear he feels baring his heart like this. “How can I make it up to you?” he asks, pulling back just enough so their lips brush together when he speaks. “How can I show you?” Then he kisses him again, nipping lightly at his bottom lip.

Ronan sighs into the kiss, a relieved, content sound, and when Kavinsky finally sits back on his heels they lock eyes. “It’s not just that,” Ronan says, resting his hands on Joseph’s thighs. “I would have to okay it with everyone else, too. We’re a package deal, and if that’s not okay then _this_ ,” he motions between himself and Kavinsky, “isn’t happening.”

Joseph thinks it over for a moment, losing himself in the ocean blue of Ronan’s eyes, then his lips curl into a grin. “They’re growing on me,” he admits. “Parrish does sound pretty fucking hot when he’s all worked up,” he says, rolling his hips down against Ronan’s lap and earning himself a soft gasp from the other man. “When you get him all desperate and he’s moaning your name like a fucking whore. I could be into that. Yeah I hear you guys. These walls are thinner than you think.”

Ronan moans quietly and grips Kavinsky’s hips to stop him. “I mean it, K,” he says and it takes more effort than he’s proud of to not buck his hips up. “You have to be serious about this. I have to be able to trust you again. And if one of them says no deal, that’s it.”

Joseph’s grin drops and he nods, looking into Ronan’s eyes again. “I’ll do better this time,” he says. And when he kisses him again, Ronan believes it.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I'm really nervous to publish this so I _really_ hope you guys liked it! I may or may not have a smutty sequel, among other fics, in the works rn! ;P
> 
> Comments, kudos, and all that good stuff mean the world to me<3 <3 <3
> 
> Feel free to find me on [tumblr](http://worrisomeme.tumblr.com)! I'm always open to prompts/requests! Let's be friends! ^_^ <3


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